


Makeup Artist

by peterplanet



Series: 1k Celebration Drabbles [3]
Category: Harrison Osterfield - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 05:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18631570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterplanet/pseuds/peterplanet





	Makeup Artist

They were both minor characters in the production of  _Spider-Man: Homecoming._ He was a sidekick to a superhero and she was the makeup artist for said hero.

Their meeting was spurred on only by a chance encounter of fluttering gazes and nervous ideas. He was in love with her tan skin from the moment that he met her and her quick Spanish retorts. Harrison loved everything about her: from the way that she was gentle with her makeup brushes to the way that she laughed when Tom told funny stories about Tessa. She had him wrapped around her little finger, but she just didn’t know it quite yet.

* * *

When he confessed his attraction to her, she had blushed. Crimson settled over her tanned skin and Harrison wondered how often she blushed under his gaze but he hadn’t realized it. He liked the innocence that it gave her, how soft it made her look and how badly it made him want to kiss her.

“I really enjoy your company,” he had said quietly with a smile forming over his features as he looked at her blushing state, “you’re always very kind to me—and Tom—and you’re always ready to talk to me and you make me feel like I’m my own person. Like I’m not just Tom’s assistant on set, but a man who you see for what I’m worth.”

He was blushing now under the weight of her intense (e/c) stare. When her breath passed by her lips so softly that it might as well not have left her body at all, Harrison couldn’t help the way that he looked at her. He was so afraid that she was going to let him down and tell him that she preferred Tom over him or that she saw him as nothing more than another client that she had to deal with; so afraid, in fact, that he almost didn’t register the quiet Spanish prayer leaving her lips.

“ _Dios mío_ ,” she whispered as she looked up at the taller boy, “you’re kidding me, aren’t you? This is a joke?”

She shook her head as she tore her gaze away from him. In that moment, Harrison realized that he would start wars if it meant that she would just look at him again. All he wanted was to be the center of her attention and the center of her ideas for even the smallest fraction of a second that it made him a little bit nauseous to think that she might not even consider him a friend. Maybe he’d gone too fast and too far without her consent and this was the price that he was paying for it—whatever it was that was causing her to insist that he was playing a joke on her was driving him crazy and he couldn’t breathe.

“If you don’t feel the same,” he began in what he hoped—in what he  _prayed_ —to be a normal tone of voice, “that’s okay. I just thought…I just thought that, maybe, I should tell you how I feel.”

And that’s when she kissed him. Her lips were on his so softly and quickly that it made him a little bit dizzy but in the best way possible because he enjoyed her presence. He enjoyed having her this close and so, in hopes of showing it, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her close to him.

“You’re so dense sometimes,” (Y/N) spoke against his lips as they pulled away from the kiss, “how could I  _not_ like you?”


End file.
